Hudibras/Part 3/An Heroical Epistle of Hudibras to his Lady

by Samuel Butler (1612-1680)

 

AN HEROICAL EPISTLE

OF

HUDIBRAS TO HIS LADY.

 

WHO was once great as Cæsar,
Am now reduc'd to Nebuchadnezzar;^[1]
And from as fam'd a conqueror,
As ever took degree in war,
Or did his exercise in battle, 5
By you turn'd out to grass with cattle.
For since I am deny'd access
To all my earthly happiness,
Am fallen from the paradise
Of your good graces, and fair eyes; 10
Lost to the world and you, I'm sent
To everlasting banishment,
Where all the hopes I had t' have won
Your heart, b'ing dash'd, will break my own.
⁠Yet if you were not so severe 15
To pass your doom before you hear,
You'd find, upon my just defence,
How much you 've wrong'd my innocence.
That once I made a vow to you,
Which yet is unperform'd, 'tis true; 20
But not because it is unpaid
Tis violated, though delay'd.
Or if it were, it is no fault
So heinous, as you'd have it thought;
To undergo the loss of ears, 25
Like vulgar hackney perjurers;
Por there's a difference in the case,
Between the noble and the base:
Who always are observ'd to 've done 't
Upon as diff'rent an account; 30
The one for great and weighty cause,
To salve in honour ugly flaws;
For none are like to do it sooner
Than those who 're nicest of their honour;
The other, for base gain and pay, 35
Forswear and perjure by the day,
And make th' exposing and retailing
Their souls, and consciences, a calling.
It is no scandal, nor aspersion,
Upon a great and noble person, 40
To say, he nat'rally abhorr'd
Th' old-fashion'd trick, to keep his word,
Tho' 'tis perfidiousness and shame,
In meaner men to do the same:
For to be able to forget, 45
Is found more useful to the great
Than gout, or deafness, or bad eyes,
To make 'em pass for wondrous wise.
But tho' the law, on perjurers,
Inflicts the forfeiture of ears, 50
It is not just, that does exempt
The guilty, and punish the innocent.^[2]
To make the ears repair the wrong
Committed by th' ungovern'd tongue;
And when one member is forsworn, 55
Another to be cropp'd or torn.
And if you shou'd, as you design,
By course of law, recover mine,
You're like, if you consider right,
To gain but little honour by't. 60
For he that for his lady's sake
Lays down his life, or limbs, at stake.
Does not so much deserve her favour,
As he that pawns his soul to have her.
This you 've acknowledg'd I have done, 65
Altho' you now disdain to own;
But sentence^[3] what you rather ought
T' esteem good service than a fault.
Besides, oaths are not bound to bear
That literal sense the words infer, 70
But, by the practice of the age,
Are to be judg'd how far th' engage;
And where the sense by custom's checkt,
Are found void, and of none effect,
For no man takes or keeps a vow, 75
But just as he sees others do;
Nor are th' oblig'd to be so brittle,
As not to yield and bow a little:
For as best temper'd blades are found,
Before they break, to bend quite round; 80
So truest oaths are still most tough,
And, tho' they bow, are breaking-proof.
Then wherefore should they not b' allow'd
In love a greater latitude?
For as the law of arms approves 85
All ways to conquest, so shou'd love's;
And not be tied to true or false,
But make that justest that prevails:
For how can that which is above
All empire, high and mighty love, 90
Submit its great prerogative,
To any other pow'r alive?
Shall love, that to no crown gives place,
Become the subject of a case?
The fundamental law of nature, 95
Be over-rul'd by those made after?
Commit the censure of its cause
To any, but its own great laws?
Love, that's the world's preservative,
That keeps all souls of things alive; 100
Controls the mighty pow'r of fate,
And gives mankind a longer date;
The life of nature, that restores
As fast as time and death devours;
To whose free gift the world does owe 105
Not only earth, but heaven too:
For love's the only trade that's driven,
The interest of state in heaven,^[4]
Which nothing but the soul of man
Is capable to entertain. 110
For what can earth produce, but love,
To represent the joys above?
Or who but lovers can converse,
Like angels, by the eye-discourse?
Address, and compliment by vision, 115
Make love, and court by intuition?
And burn in am'rous flames as fierce
As those celestial ministers?
Then how can anything offend,
In order to so great an end? 120
Or heav'n itself a sin resent,
That for its own supply was meant?^[5]
That merits, in a kind mistake,
A pardon for th' offence's sake?
Or if it did not, but the cause 125
Were left to th' injury of laws,
What tyranny can disapprove,
There should be equity in love?
For laws, that are inanimate,
And feel no sense of love or hate,^[6] 130
That have no passion of their own,
Nor pity to be wrought upon,
Are only proper to inflict
Revenge on criminals as strict.
But to have power to forgive, 135
Is empire and prerogative;
And 'tis in crowns a nobler gem
To grant a pardon than condemn.
Then, since so few do what they ought,
'Tis great t' indulge a well-meant fault; 140
For why should he who made address,
All humble ways, without success;
And met with nothing in return
But insolence, affronts, and scorn.
Not strive by wit to counter-mine, 145
And bravely carry his design?
He who was us'd s' unlike a soldier.
Blown up with philters of love-powder;
And after letting blood, and purging,
Condemn'd to voluntary scourging; 150
Alarm'd with many a horrid fright,
And claw'd by goblins in the night;
Insulted on, revil'd and jeer'd,
With rude invasion of his beard;
And when your sex was foully scandal'd, 155
As foully by the rabble handled;
Attacked by despicable foes,
And drubb'd with mean and vulgar blows;
And, after all, to be debarr'd
So much as standing on his guard; 160
When horses, being spurr'd and prick'd,
Have leave to kick for being kick'd?
⁠Or why should you, whose mother-wits^[7]
Are furnish'd with all perquisites;
That with your breeding teeth begin, 165
And nursing babies that lie in;
B' allow'd to put all tricks upon
Our cully^[8] sex, and we use none?
We, who have nothing but frail vows
Against your stratagems t' oppose; 170
Or oaths, more feeble than your own,
By which we are no less put down?^[9]
You wound, like Parthians, while you fly,
And kill with a retreating eye;^[10]
Retire the more, the more we press, 175
To draw us into ambushes:
As pirates all false colours wear,
T' intrap th' unwary mariner;
So women, to surprise us, spread
The borrow'd flags of white and red; 180
Display 'em thicker on their cheeks,
Than their old grandmothers, the Picts;
And raise more devils with their looks,
Than conjurers' less subtle books:
Lay trains of amorous intrigues, 185
In tow'rs, and curls, and periwigs,
With greater art and cunning rear'd,
Than Philip Nye's Thanksgiving-beard;^[11]
Prepost'rously t' entice and gain
Those to adore 'em they disdain; 190
And only draw 'em in to clog,
With idle names, a catalogue.^[12]
A lover is, the more he's brave,
T' his mistress but the more a slave;^[13]
And whatsoever she commands, 195
Becomes a favour from lier hands,
Which he's oblig'd t' obey, and must,
Whether it be unjust or just.
Then when he is compell'd by her
T' adventures he would else forbear, 200
Who, with his honour, can withstand,
Since force is greater than command?
And when necessity's obey'd,
Nothing can be unjust or bad:
And therefore, when the mighty pow'rs 205
Of love, our great ally, and yours,
Join'd forces not to be withstood
By frail enamour'd flesh and blood,
All I have done, unjust or ill,
Was in obedience to your will, 210
And all the blame that can be due
Falls to your cruelty, and you.
Nor are those scandals I confest,
Against my will and interest,
More than is daily done, of course, 215
By all men, when they're under force
Whence some, upon the rack, confess
What th' hangman and their prompters please;
But are no sooner out of pain,
Than they deny it all again. 220
But when the devil turns confessor,
Truth is a crime he takes no pleasure
To hear or pardon, like the founder
Of liars, whom they all claim under:^[14]
And therefore when I told him none, 225
I think it was the wiser done.
Nor am I without precedent,
The first that on th' adventure went;
All mankind ever did of course,
And daily does^[15] the same, or worse. 230
For what romance can show a lover,
That had a lady to recover,
And did not steer a nearer course.
To fall aboard in his amours?
And what at first was held a crime. 235
Has turn'd to hon'rable in time.
⁠To what a height did infant Rome,
By ravishing of women, come?^[16]
When men upon their spouses seiz'd,
And freely marry'd where they pleas'd: 240
They ne'er forswore themselves, nor lied,
Nor, in the mind they were in, died;
Nor took the pains t' address and sue.
Nor play'd the masquerade to woo:
Disdain'd to stay for friends' consents, 245
Nor juggled about settlements:
Did need no licence, nor no priest,
Nor friends, nor kindred, to assist;
Nor lawyers, to join land and money
In the holy state of matrimony, 250
Before they settled hands and hearts,
Till alimony or death departs;^[17]
Nor would endure to stay, until
They 'd got the very bride's good-will,
But took a wise and shorter course 255
To win the ladies—downright force;
And justly made 'em prisoners then,
As they have, often since, us men.
With acting plays, and dancing jigs,^[18]
The luckiest of all love's intrigues; 260
And when they had them at their pleasure,
They talk'd of love and flames at leisure;
For after matrimony's over.
He that holds out but half a lover.
Deserves, for ev'ry minute, more 265
Than half a year of love before;
For which the dames, in contemplation
Of that best way of application,
Prov'd nobler wives than e'er were known,
By suit, or treaty, to be won;^[19] 270
And such as all posterity
Cou'd never equal, nor come nigh.
For women first were made for men,
Not men for them.—It follows, then,
That men have right to every one, 275
And they no freedom of their own;
And therefore men have pow'r to chuse
But they no charter to refuse.
Hence 'tis apparent that what course
Soe'er we take to your amours, 280
Though by the indirectest way,
'Tis not injustice nor foul play;
And that you ought to take that course
As we take you, for better or worse,
And gratefully submit to those 285
Who you, before another, chose.
For why shou'd ev'ry savage beast
Exceed his great lord's interest?^[20]
Have freer pow'r than he, in grace,
And nature, o'er the creature has? 290
Because the laws he since has made
Have cut off all the pow'r he had;
Retrench'd the absolute dominion
That nature gave him over women;
When all his pow'r will not extend 295
One law of nature to suspend;
And but to offer to repeal
The smallest clause, is to rebel.
This, if men rightly understood
Their privilege, they would make good, 300
And not, like sots, permit their wives
T' encroach on their prerogatives;
For which sin they deserve to be
Kept, as they are, in slavery:
And this some precious gifted teachers, 305
Unrev'rently reputed lechers,^[21]
And disobey'd in making love,
Have vow'd to all the world to prove.
And make ye suffer as you ought,
For that uncharitable fault: 310
But I forget myself, and rove
Beyond th' instructions of my love.
⁠Forgive me, Fair, and only blame
Th' extravagancy of my flame,
Since 'tis too much at once to show 315
Excess of love and temper too.
All I have said that's bad, and true,^[22]
Was never meant to aim at you,
Who have so sov'reign a control
O'er that poor slave of yours, my soul, 320
That, rather than to forfeit you,
Has ventur'd loss of heaven too;
Both with an equal pow'r possest,
To render all that serve you blest;
But none like him, who's destin'd either 325
To have or lose you both together;
And if you'll but this fault release,
For so it must be, since you please,
I'll pay down all that vow, and more,
Which you commanded, and I swore, 330
And expiate, upon my skin,
Th' arrears in full of all my sin:
For 'tis but just that I should pay
Th' accruing penance for delay,
Which shall be done, until it move 335
Your equal pity and your love.

⁠The Knight, perusing this Epistle,
Believ'd he 'ad brought her to his whistle;
And read it, like a jocund lover,
With great applause, t' himself, twice over: 340
Subscrib'd his name, but at a fit
And humble distance to his wit;
And dated it with wondrous art,
'Giv'n from the bottom of his heart;
Then seal'd it with his coat of love, 345
A smoking faggot,—and above
Upon a scroll—I burn, and weep;
And near it—For her ladyship,
Of all her sex most excellent,
These to her gentle hands present.^[23] 350
Then gave it to his faithless Squire,
With lessons how t' observe and eye her.^[24]
⁠She first consider'd which was better.
To send it back, or burn the letter:
But guessing that it might import, 355
Tho' nothing else, at least her sport,
She open'd it, and read it out,
With many a smile and leering flout:
Resolv'd to answer it in kind,
And thus perform'd what she design'd. 360

 

1. See Daniel, chap. iv. verses 32, 33.
2. This line must be read—
   ⁠"The guilty 'nd punish th' innocent."
3. That is, condemn or pass sentence upon.
4. So "Waller:⁠All that we know of those above,
   ⁠Is, that they live and that they love.
   But the Spanish priest Henriquez, in his singular book entitled "The business of the Saints in Heaven," printed at Salamanca, 1631, assumes to know more about them. He says that every saint shall have his particular house in heaven, and Christ a most magnificent palace! That there shall be large streets, great piazzas, fountains, and gardens. That there shall be a sovereign pleasure in kissing and embracing the bodies of the blest; and pleasant baths, where they shall bathe themselves in each other's company; that all shall sing like nightingales, and delight themselves in masquerades, feasts, and ballads; and that the angels shall be attired as females, and present themselves to the saints in full costume, with curls and locks, waistcoats and fardingales.
5. The Knight sophistically argues that heaven cannot resent love as a sin, since it is itself love, and therefore all love is heaven.
6. Aristotle defined law to be, reason without passion; and despotism, or arbitrary power, to be, passion without reason.
7. Why should you, who were sharp and witty from your infancy, who bred wit with your teeth, &c.
8. Foolish, or easily gulled.
9. That is, we are no less subdued by your oaths than by your stratagems.
10. The Parthians were excellent horsemen and very dexterous in shooting their arrows behind them, by which means their flight was often as destructive to the enemy as their attack.
11. Nye was a member of the Assembly of Divines, and as remarkable for his beard as for his fanaticism. He first entered at Brazen-nose college, Oxford, and afterwards removed to Magdalen-hall, where he took his degrees, and then went to Holland. In 1640 he returned home a furious Presbyterian; and was sent to Scotland to forward the Covenant. He then became a strenuous preacher on the side of the Independents: "was put into Dr Featly's living at Acton, and rode there every Lord's day in triumph in a coach drawn by four horses." He attacked Lilly the astrologer from the pulpit with considerable virulence, and for this service was rewarded with the office of holding forth upon thanksgiving days. Wherefore
    He thought upon it, and resolv'd to put
    His beard into as wonderful a cut.
    Butler's MS. 
    
    
    This preacher's beard is honoured with an entire poem in Butler's Genuine Remains, vol. i. p. 177. Indeed beards at that period were the prominent part of fashionable costume: when the head of a celebrated court chaplain and preacher had been dressed in a superior style, the friscur exclaimed, with a mixture of admiration and self-applause, "I'll be hang'd if any person of taste can attend to one word of the sermon to-day."
12. To increase the catalogue of their discarded suitors.
13. The poet may here possibly allude to some well-known characters of his time. Bishop Burnet says: "The Lady Dysart came to have so much power over Lord Lauderdale, that it lessened him very much in the esteem of all the world; for he delivered himself up to all her humours and passions." And we know that Anne Clarges, at first the mistress, and afterward the wife of General Monk, duke of Albemarle, gained the most undue influence over that intrepid commander, who, though never afraid of bullets, was often terrified by the fury of his wife.
14. See St John viii. 44. Butler, in his MS. Common-place Book, says,
    As lyars, with long use of telling lyes,
    Forget at length if they are true or false,
    So those that plod on anything too long,
    Know nothing whether th' are in the right or wrong;
    For what are all your demonstrations else.
    But to the higher powers of sense appeals;
    Senses that th' undervalue and contemn
    As if it lay below their wits and them.
    
    
15. Var. daily do, in all editions to 1716 inclusive.
16. This refers to the well-known story of the Rape of the Sabines.
17. Thus printed in some editions of the Prayer Book; afterwards altered, "till death us do part," as mentioned in a former note. In some editions of Hudibras this line reads, "Till alimony or death them parts."
18. The whole of this stanza refers to the rape of the Sabines. The Romans, under Koniulus, pretending to exhibit some fine shows and diversions, drew together a concourse of young women, and seized them for their wives.
19. When the Sabines came with a large army to demand their daughters, and the two nations were preparing to decide the matter by tight, the women who had been carried away ran between the armies with strong manifestations of grief, and thus effected a reconciliation.
20. That is, man sometimes called lord of the world:
    Man of all creatures the most fierce and wild
    That ever God made or the devil spoil'd:
    The most courageous of men, by want,
    As well as honour, are made valiant.⁠Butler's MS.
    
    
21. Mr Case, as some have supposed, but, according to others, Dr Burgess, or Hugh Peters. Most probably the latter, as in several volumes and tracts of the time Peters is distinctly accused of gross lechery; and in Thurloe's State Papers (vol. iv. p. 784) it is stated that he was found with a whore a-bed, and grew mad, and said nothing but "O blood, blood, that troubles me."
22. See Butler's "Character of a Wooer."
23. The Knight's prolix superscription to his love-letter is in the fashionable style of the time. Common forms were—To my much honoured friend—To the most excellent lady—To my loving cousin—these present with care and speed, &c.
24. Don Quixote, when he sent his squire Sancho Panza to his mistress Dulcinea del Toboso, gives him similar directions.